Cracking Shells
by EvannaLy
Summary: Though the war is finally over, not everyone feels victorious yet. Hermione and Severus both struggle with the aftermath of the war and might be able to help each other, if they would only realize it.
1. Chapter 1

**My dear Readers,**

**I'm very sorry it took so long for me to update again. But I'm very happy to tell you that I began this story with many ideas in my head and my fingers itching to write them down.**

**I hope you'll like it and I'm already curious to hear your thoughts about it.**

**Like always: all praise goes to JKR and I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes - english is not my native language.**

**Yours, EvannaLy**

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**CHAPTER 1**

It was a cold evening in early February. Rain splashed onto the ground in a hectic staccato and stormy clouds covered up the dark night sky. A lonely figure sat at the shore of the lake which reflected the numerous lights which came out of the many windows of the castle, towering over the whole scenery and giving it a mystic flair. The figure was Hermione Granger, resident Arithmantic mistress, since Prof. Vector had quit her job directly after the battle. War heroine, bookworm, Gryffindor Princess, the brain of the Golden Trio, annoying little miss know-it-all – depending on who you asked. Her stoic eyes assessed all the raw beauty of the scenery without feeling anything. She hadn't felt anything for months, living through the same routine every day, faking smiles and laughs and happiness, never betraying the battlefield behind her eyes that has been there since the actual final battle. The only difference was that while Hogwarts had emerged from its ashes, Hermione was still broken, still locked in her memories with seemingly no way to escape. She couldn't forget the still bodies sprayed all over the grounds, the fear in everyone's eyes and the knowledge how everything was falling apart with no way to stop it but to fight through and to hope in vain that it would end without losing anybody too close.

She tried to repress the memories of Remus and Tonks, of Fred and Colin, of Parvati and all the other countless victims that lost their life due to the workings of one madman and his loyal and cruel followers. So many promising lives lost for what? But it was like Dumbledore once said, you shouldn't grieve for the dead, you should grieve for the living. Hermione never understood this better than in that very moment, staring at the lake with blank eyes, too tired for tears, too worn out for anything other than silent apathy, hidden behind layers of masks to fend off anyone who tried to come too close. She was a heroine after all, she should live a happy life now that she got the chance to live it. It was expected.

Prof. McGonagall had asked her once, if she was alright, a few weeks after the battle when she had just graduated with bravour and began her work as a teacher. Maybe the headmistress had been suspicious about her fast recovery. But then no one really knew what she had endured during that horrible year. No one really knew anything about the war experiences of anybody. It was a tabu topic and frowned upon to talk about. It seemed as if the whole wizarding world wanted to forget that the Voldemort incident had even happened, they wanted to delete every memory of his reign and start anew. Hermione could understand the intent behind that, in the end she wanted the same, but she also knew how important it was to talk about the trauma in order to really move past it all. There was a reason that all war veterans were sent to psychologists to tackle their PTSD in the muggle world. But just like in so many other cases the wizarding world was too conservative and stuck in their old ways to see the necessity in stuff that the muggles had long ago deemed compulsory.

But it wasn't as if Hermione could just go to a muggle psychiatrist and talk about a war that had gone by without the doctor even noticing, where the villain was killed by a flash of green light and where she had been tortured by mere words uttered with enough hatred to make one go crazy. The only people she could have once talked about it all had been her parents and that – she didn't want to go there. It only meant even more pain she wasn't ready to deal with.

Hermione pulled her knees up and buried her face in her arms. There were still no tears, though with the rain pouring down on her and down her cheeks it almost felt as if there were. She felt the cold seeping in. Her thin coat wasn't even near to being warm enough in the icy February weather. She remained seated. The cold was an easier battle partner than her memories. Maybe she should just sit there until everything else would fade away, until she wasn't anything but numb. But then they would know. People would realize how fake her façade really was and she wouldn't be left alone for another second. She sighed and slowly stood up. She was dizzy for a moment before regaining her strength and starting to trek back to the castle walls that were inviting once and only held a sense of claustrophobia nowadays. She had exactly four-hundred and twenty-six steps until she had to transform into her happy persona once more and she needed every one of them to shield her real feelings away.

Unbeknownst to her there was one other person currently roaming the grounds, clothed in long, billowing black robes that made him look kind of similar to an oversized bat. Severus Snape counted to the lucky people who had survived the war, not that he was in any way grateful for that. If he would have had the last word he would have died in the final battle and he would have died gladly. He never even pictured himself surviving and being gifted a life to do with as he pleased. He felt that he neither deserved nor wanted it. But when had anyone ever asked him what he wanted? So he had fought through some awful months at St. Mungos, bound to his bed and unable to escape the many unwanted visitors who came to appease their guilty conscience. Then there had been the fight in court to free him from his accused crimes, led by his most annoying and enduring worshipper, the golden boy himself. It definitely had been a most memorable day when Harry Potter had waltzed into his hospital room without hesitation and declared that he would bring justice to Severus, ignoring all of his complaints and nasty comments. And as Severus hadn't been able to leave his bed yet he had no choice but to accept his fate. But then he wasn't blinded enough by prejudices to ignore the advantages that he would gain out of a representation in court by Potter. The wizarding world owed the boy more than it could ever repay, so his chances to actually set the former deatheater free would be higher than under any other circumstances. If he had to built himself a new life, he should at least do it as a free man.

And it had worked, Potter was successful and when Severus was finally ready to leave the hospital, he was exactly that, a free man. A free man with absolutely no place to go and no friends to turn to. So he had gone to the only place that would always welcome a person in need and the only place that ever really felt like home, despite all the recent horrible memories. He had returned to Hogwarts. The borders still recognized him as a former headmaster so he was granted access to the grounds. Like a shadow he had disappeared into the dungeon and seeked refuge in his old rooms. Still not completely healed yet he passed out on his bed, tired from the journey. He was found two days later in the same position by a houseelf who had been ordered to clear the space for a potential new potions professor and who passed out immediately before informing Prof. McGonagall about the unexpected house guest. Minerva had been shocked but relieved and pleased at the same time. Relieved to see him alive and thus having a chance to apologize for her mistrust during his short reign as a headmaster and pleased to be able to convince him to stay and become Hogwarts potion master once more. As he had no place to go he accepted her offer despite his previous dislike for teaching. And he ended up actually liking it when there was no old, noisy man who saw meddling in Severus life as a daily sport. Who would have thought.

What he didn't expect though was having to accept Hermione Granger as a coworker. She was not much more than a mere girl and in no way competent or mature enough to teach! No, Ms. Know-it-all had no place at the table at the head of the great hall. Surely Minerva had only asked her to fill in for the vacant Arithmantic teaching spot because she hadn't found a proper teacher yet. Ms. Granger would leave in no time. Only that she didn't. Months went by and she was still there. She even had the audacity to offer him her first name. He was so gobsmacked that he missed the chance to decline and had to call her Hermione since then. At least he had sobered up in time to prevent offering her the same!

The name thing wasn't the only curious thing. She acted differently than in her time as a student. She was still annoyingly happy all the time, though he couldn't understand how that was possible after living through a war, and she still liked to share her admittedly wide knowledge with everyone who asked for it or who didn't. But she also tried to talk to him, which was curious in itself, as it was something no one but Minerva seemed to try these days. There had been several situations when she had sat down on the chair next to his in the great hall and tried to make small talk, speak about the last book she read or ask him about some potion article from monthly potions. So far he had been successful in deflecting all her attempts to form any type of a friendly bond. What a laughable idea. He would never see her as anything else than his former student.

He had told her exactly that. And a little bit more. But it was the truth! He wasn't interested in any form of attention from her side and as a teacher she was laughable and completely incompetent. She had stopped pestering him afterwards.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Hey there, **

**thank you so much for the positive feedback on the first chapter.**

**Lots of love, EvannaLy**

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**CHAPTER 2**

Hermione took the quickest way to her two-room apartment near her classroom. For once the castle seemed to be on her side and the staircases helped her save a few minutes by avoiding unnecessary stops on her way up. She was still dripping wet and too careless to cast a heating charm. Filch would kill her, should he trace the water line back to her. Whatever. She reached the portrait of a dark forest with a satyr named Tilius who guarded her rooms. "You really should take better care of yourself!", he scolded her after taking one look at her. He would deny it, if you asked him, but he was a real mother hen and always trying to make Hermione care a bit more about herself. Like always she only managed to come up with a half-smile and told him the password. Tilius rolled his eyes and opened the entryway. "I have a word with you tomorrow, miss!", "Sure, you do." Now she really had to grin, even though it only lasted for a second. It was nice knowing someone cared a little. Even if it was only a portrait. She bid her guardian goodnight and went to the bathroom to take a hot shower. She hadn't lost her senses completely after all and really did want to avoid getting ill.

The next morning she woke up with a light headache, but nothing she couldn't deal with. She finished her morning routine without conscious effort and was the second person in the great hall for breakfast, also like every day. The only one who woke up even earlier than her was Severus Snape. Even tough she knew that he wasn't a morning person at all he always wanted to be the first at everything, as if he had a fear of missing anything important.

As she walked along the long tables and to the head table she sighed inwardly. At the beginning she had really tried with the Professor. She had seen his suffering, both during his stay at the hospital and afterwards in court, and then in the silent times afterwards at Hogwarts too. He thought he had hid his real thoughts and feelings away securely, but he wasn't as thorough as he had been during his times as a spy. The war had taken its toll on everyone. So she had tried to make the best out of her new position as a teacher. She had tried to talk to him, to show interest in his work and be a companion and friend. Needless to say that it hadn't worked out. He didn't believe her at all and mistook her honest caring for being noisy and intrusive. That she still suffered very much the same from the aftermaths of the war escaped his notice. Instead he took it upon himself to make it very clear what he thought of her and how incompetent and unfit for her current job she was in his eyes. She stopped any attempts at connecting with him afterwards and stayed for herself most of the time now. Of course she had the obligatory talk with her coworkers now and then but she remained in the background most days. With the addition of her reduced contact with Harry and Ron she was getting really lonely. She hadn't lost contact with her two oldest friends completely, but it's rare due to the distance and the fact that she broke up with Ron after he cheated on her with Lavender out of all eligible women in the country. They had talked about it all at length after that and were both prolonging a relationship as a couple, but it still hurt her that he couldn't tell her that to her face in the first place instead of cheating. Ron hadn't intentionally wanted to hurt her but he had been just as unsure as she herself after the war. And as he always did when he got unsure, he acted thoughtlessly and without considering the consequences of his acts. So that was that. And Harry had been caught in the crossfire and didn't want to choose sides. Not that she could blame him. But he still could write a bit more often.

She didn't let her dark thoughts cloud her eyes and put on her trademark fake smile that everyone seemed to take for real and sat down on her seat next to the sourly looking potions master. "Good morning, Professor." She had offered him her first name, but he had elegantly avoided offering her the same courtesy, so she resorted to calling him Professor like in her school days. Mr. Snape just sounded wrong, and sir wasn't a good alternative either. He grumbled an unintelligible answer and continued to hold his cup of coffee as if it was his only life line without deigning to look at her at all. She sighed again soundlessly and began to put some fruits and yoghurt into her breakfast bowl. She got lost in her thoughts and finished her bowl automatically and without another word. Oh what a joyous life!

She managed to get through the day somehow and found herself sitting at the same spot during dinner. Minerva sat on her other side and was currently talking to her about some changes in the curriculum to which Hermione only listened half-heartedly. When Minerva finally was silent for a second she saw her chance and changed the course of the conversation towards her upcoming trip to St. Mungos that was scheduled tomorrow afternoon.

"Minerva, have you found a replacement for my afternoon lesson tomorrow?" The older woman looked at her warily for a moment. "Yes, in fact I did. But Hermione, why can't you tell me why you still go there every two weeks? As far as I know you haven't been hurt that bad in the final battle. Why do you still have to go there so often?" Hermione averted her eyes. Minerva asked out of real compassion, but she wasn't comfortable talking about the spell damage that Bellatrix left her with yet. That Minerva knew about her trips to the hospital at all was only because she had to as her employer.

"Let's just say that the war lasted longer than one battle and that I want to be on the safe side." Minerva sighed but refrained from asking further questions. "I hope your effort is not in vain and will be proven unnecessary soon. You can't continue to miss so many lessons. It's getting harder to find replacements." Hermione had to keep herself from pointing out that if she didn't went to the hospital Minerva would soon have to find a whole new teacher to fill in her spot. But she couldn't know that, so Hermione stayed silent. "Thank you for understanding, Minerva." Was all she said instead and also ended the conversation by finishing her dinner and getting up. "Goodnight everyone." She earned a few answers from her colleagues and left without another glance but not without hearing Severus' whispered 'Lazy, incompetent child'. He probably had overheard the last part of her conversation with Minerva. His comment hurt more than it should.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Hey:D**

**I'm having so much fun with this story, that I decided to upload early, even though this chapter is a bit shorter. And don't worry, even though the first few chapters will be more Hermione centric, Severus will appear more often soon enough.  
**

**As always, have fun!**

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**CHAPTER 3**

The next day flew by faster than she wanted and before the rest of the school had finished lunch she already sat in a uncomfortable chair in the waiting room of the spell damage section of St. Mungos. She knew the station better than she wanted. But ever since the end of war she had been a frequent visitor. Bellatrix torture session in Malfoy Manor had left her with some nasty spell residue. She sometimes started to shake out of nowhere and she had to be careful when she worked with powerful spells and incantations. She had also fainted out of nowhere and was more prone to get sick than before. Arithmantic as her choice of subject had therefore been a calculated one. Should she ever faint in class there were no dangerous objects around her. Also in investing more time in learning the difficult art of Arithmancy she upped her chances in preventing fainting situations and similar ones by calculating her future as precise as possible. So far it had worked quite well.

After waiting for nearly half an hour she was called in and met by the sight of Dr. Burleigh, specialist in the field of treating unforgivable curses. Which didn't mean that he could heal her. But he was her best chance so far.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger. How do you feel today? Any signs of an upcoming weakness attack?", "Good afternoon. No, I've been quite well, given the circumstances. It's been an up and down, like always. I haven't fainted once since our last session, but I get the feeling that the shaking gets worse. Especially in the evening after a long day.", "That should be due to the accumulating stress. Please lay down here so that I can cast the detection spells." Hermione did as she was told and watched emotionlessly as Dr. Burleigh wordlessly cast a number of spells which made her glow in different colors. When he was finished he asked her to get up and sit in the chair opposite his at his desk.

"Miss Granger, I'm sure I don't tell you anything new, but the aftereffects of the curses get gradually worse. Especially one curse seems to have managed to form roots and gets stronger by stealing small portions of your magical essence. It's a trademark curse of the Lestranges and we have several other patients with the same problem. We haven't found a solution that worked for a prolonged amount of time yet, but we have specialists working exclusively on this problem." He had told her all of this in a calm 'Doctor' voice, the pity clear in his eyes. Hermione tiredly closed her eyes for a moment. She had noticed the changes of course, but hearing it from a trained professional was something completely different. It made it all more real in a way. She opened her eyes again and collected her strength. "So what does this mean for me now?", "Your treatment won't change that much. We will enlarge the amount of muscle strengthener you already take, and you'll need to take four drops of this balancer potion with every meal you take which will hopefully strengthen your magical core as well and prevent it from lashing out while fighting the parasite curse." Hermione nodded silently and took the new potion from Dr. Burleighs hands. "Thank you for your time.", "It was my honor, until the week after next. Be careful." They shook hands and she left the room a little dazed.

Despite her better knowledge she had hoped for some other news. But well, at least it wasn't life threatening for now. Be thankful for the little things, her mom had always said. Her mom. Hermiones eyes teared up a little and she knew where she needed to be now. Minerva wouldn't expect her until dinner anyway. She walked into the lobby and into the apparition area where she concentrated disappeared into thin air.

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	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

She could still remember it like yesterday, the moment when she had finally graduated from school and had the time and the means to find her parents. She hadn't heard from them since she had cast the obliviating spell so she guessed that her plan had gone well. After she had said her goodbyes to all of her former teachers and classmates she had walked to the borders of the school on her own and apparated, after one last glance at the castle to her childhood home. It could be possible, of course, that her parents decided to sell it after their (her) decision to leave the country for a new start in Australia. But it was her only point to start her search that would probably last for quite some time.

At least that was what she thought at the time. Not in a million years she would have expected what had come next. She had taken closer look to the doorbell and saw that it still said 'Granger', so she guessed her parents hadn't sold the house after all. She took her old key from her bag and slowly turned it in its lock. It was hard for her to enter the house again after more than a year of absence, filled with so much gruesome tales, filled with the memories of a war.

At first, everything looked the same. The same pictures hanging in all the right places, none of the furniture changed, the same carpet softening her steps on the floor. Only a thick layer of dust was proof that it's been some time since there had been inhabitants around. She carefully closed the door behind her and remained glued to the spot for a moment. An eerie silence filled the air and she couldn't tell whether it was only due to the long time she had been away or due to something else, but she felt goosebumps covering her arms and she got a sinking feeling in her stomach.

She had closed her eyes for a second and taken a deep breath to calm herself, before proceeding to the door of the kitchen. This was the moments when things fell apart. One look was enough to tell her that something really bad had happened. The doors of the cupboards were open, the whole drawer that used to contain the cutlery had been ripped out completely, its content emptied out on the work surface. All knives from the knife block were missing. Her hands started shaking and she felt overwhelming fear at the thought of what could have been the possible results from this scene.

Step by step she walked further into the room, closed her eyes and turned right. In front of her was the door leading to the living room. She could hear her own blood thrumming in her veins, her heart was beating in a fast staccato and she started to shiver again. She took up together all her courage and opened her eyes again. Then she screamed.

Later she couldn't remember how she had managed to call in the aurors. All she remembered was that she couldn't stop crying and that everything hurt. Everything had hurt so damn much and it only stopped when it was replaced by an all-consuming darkness. Probably courtesy of the aurors. Next thing she knew was that she was sitting in the auror office and was getting interviewed by Kingsley himself. When she had been in contact with her parents last? Too long ago. Had there been any sign of an impending attack? Of course there had, it had been war, for gods sake. Did she knew that the Obliviate-spell wasn't exactly legal? Who cared, it obviously hadn't even worked right.

After the questions it got even worse. Kingsley told her what knowledge they gathered and what had most probably happened. While her plan had been a good one in theory, she had had zero experience in casting the spell and it hadn't been strong enough. They actually had moved to Australia in the beginning but had become suspicious when the spell had begun to slowly fade away over the year and had returned to England weeks before the war had ended. They had gone back to their old home and had been immediately intercepted by deatheaters. Her parents had stood no chance. Especially, when Bellatrix decided to make their death her parting present to Hermione after it became obvious that they had no clue about Hermione, Harry and Rons whereabouts. Her mom had been the one to die first and her dad forced to watch the act before getting killed himself. Bellatrix left a phiole with her memories of the act with their rotting corpses for Hermione to watch, when she would eventually return.

Though Kingsley tried to talk her out of it she watched every single second of it. She had been the reason for their death, therefore she only deserved to get tortured by their images. Another form of torture was that every deatheater included was already dead, so there was no one to punish, only Hermione left to be cursed with the memories.

She thought about extracting them to free herself from the weight of them a few times but refrained from it. Extracting memories had led to this mess in the first place. She was to blame for the death of her parents, so it was only fair that she suffered just as much as they did. And she did suffer. The pain burned itself deeper into her soul every day until she had trouble getting up in the morning and doing as simple things as eating or washing herself.

Sher never talked about the whole affair again after her interview with Kingsley. She had asked the aurors to keep it down. She had managed to keep it all out of the newspapers and hadn't told it anyone herself. The Weasleys were still mourning for Fred and Harry already mourned for everyone. So she wanted to avoid to enforce her sorrow onto anyone and had remained silent, while it ate her up from the inside.

These thoughts were running through her mind when Hermione appeared near the entry of the small cemetery where the remains of her parents were now laid to rest. Her feet found the way without conscious effort and before she knew it she knelt before a black tombstone with adorning silver letters. Her parents' names, their birthdates and 'Loving parents'. Nothing more, nothing less. And when Hermione transformed a fallen leave into a black rose she finally started to cry. She sat there for what seemed like hours, tears streaming down her cheeks while swaying back and forth. It was all too much. All the painful memories she still hadn't dealt with, the increasing sense of loneliness, her powerlessness in face of her illness. She longed for the loving embrace of her mom or some cheering words from her dad. She wanted to turn back time to a place in time when her little world was still intact. And for a second she wished she would have never gotten that letter from Hogwarts in the first place.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Hey there,**

**thank you for staying with me and this story until now. Have fun reading the newest chapter of cracking shells. After the sad part from last time we have a piece of childish Severus today.  
**

**Greetings, EvannaLy**

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**CHAPTER 5**

She was back at the castle a little late for dinner. Everyone was already eating when she stepped through the huge doors and walked through the long aisle of students. She nodded to Minerva in greeting and sat down on her usual place next to her and a sour-looking Severus. Too tired and emotionally worn out to keep up her cheerful façade she refrained from greeting him politely like she usually did and helped herself to some vegetables and sweet potatoes instead. He never appreciated her effort anyways. Instead she tried to think of a solution to her health problems. She had tried everything she could think of in her own field of research, but Arithmantic had proved to be a dead-end. It only helped in foreseeing coming weakness-attacks. Well, and it had told her that trying to develop a healing potion was her best chance at surviving. But that would involve asking Severus for help or at least asking for permission to use his lab for some experimenting on her own. Both ways seemed more than unappealing to her! No, she still had alternative options. She would consult with Filius first. Maybe there was a way to pull the parasite curse out of her and bind it to an inanimate object. If you could do that with something essential for yourself like part of your soul, then why not with a curse that had formed roots where it shouldn't? Yes, she mentally patted herself on the shoulder. This was a perfectly reasonable form of action.

Feeling a little bit better now she finished her meal while even having a short conversation with Minerva about the incompetent fill-in that had held her class today in her place, then said her goodbyes to her colleagues before starting the long trek back to her rooms. Tilius already awaited her and was barely able to contain his excitement when he asked about her trip to the hospital. With his never-ending positivity he always believed in the best and was equally devastated when she brought back bad news each and every time.

"Maybe you're just going to the wrong hospital. How is it possible that they call theirselves doctors and still haven't done a thing to help you?", "It is the only hospital, Tilius. And they've been trying their best." The satyr huffed and started jumping from the left side from his frame to the right and back. "That's rubbish. They are incompetent idiots! If only there would be any satyrs left. They could heal you with their earth magic in no time!" Hermione sent him a tired smile. "Well, sadly the last satyrs were seen somewhere around the 8th century, so the chances of finding one are more than slim. But we won't give up, won't we?" Tilius grumbled some unintelligible words into his beard but nodded in confirmation. "Now, my friend, please let me in. I'm very tired from the day. Hippogriffs shit.", "Why can't the password be something nicer, like sunflower-field, or butterfly-wings?", "Because then I wouldn't get the amusement of your sour grimace every time I'd enter my rooms. Goodnight Tilius.", "Goodnight Miss."

The portrait opened and she entered her little safe haven. What a day. Tomorrow first things first she would talk with Filius, but tonight she would take some time to look through her old photo albums. She had cried for hours anyway, so what were a few more, before she would force the memories back to the back of her mind again?

Severus day had been almost just as awful. At breakfast he had had to drink Darjeeling instead of his usual Earl Grey because there had been some miscalculations in the kitchen order, then he had first-year Gryffindor and Slytherins as his first class of the day. The combination just screamed trouble. It wasn't because of the house rivalry anymore, those days were over, when there wasn't a Quidditch game coming around, no, the two houses had combined their effort to become known as the biggest pranksters the school has seen since the Weasley twins. And they were on a good way, much to the chagrin of the teachers. And adding this to the fact, that first-years had a tendency to set their cauldrons on fire anyway it was the perfect recipe for trouble.

Severus fears got confirmed when all batches of a simple version of the Pepper-up-potion turned into an unusable emerald brew that proved to be laughing gas in its steam state, due to the exchange of all Mandrake roots to Bitter roots. It took him a whole 30 minutes to get rid of the gas, to stop the students – and himself – from laughing and to find the culprits. Mr. Williams from Gryffindor and Mr. Smith from Slytherin had a few very relaxing weeks in the cheerful company of Mr. Filch in front of them.

His next class consisted of fifth-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, thank Lord for small mercies, that got a reading assignment instead of brewing something. He would only clean his cauldrons so often on one day, after all.

At lunch he couldn't help but notice Ms. Gangers restlessness, which in turn annoyed him to no end because he had noticed it in the first place. What was it to him if the annoying girl acted strange? Right, nothing. He continued to take apart his potatoes afterwards with more vigour than necessary.

He reached his breaking point shortly after 4pm, when the pregnant replacement of Ms. Granger (why had she been away, anyway?) had gone into labor two weeks early and he had been informed by Minerva that he had to look over her class as well. As if one class wasn't enough. And then Minerva hadn't even told Ms. Granger at dinner about the whole event. No, Granger had acted strange again when she didn't greet him like usual, spaced out for the first half of dinner and then talked casually with Minerva, where not a single word was spent on his stressful afternoon.

Severus knew he was being petulant today, but for some reason his tolerance level had started much lower than usual in the morning and had only gotten worse during the day. The rational part of his brain knew that Ms. Granger had done nothing wrong and was the wrong to blame, but the irrational one was happy to have found a scapegoat for his bad mood and long day.

To take his mind of things and to calm down a bit he went to his room directly after dinner. He grabbed his latest book, a recollection of the life of an ancient potion master, a rare piece he had found on a flea market in Edinburgh last winter and sat down on his favorite chair near the fireplace, a glass of scotch on his right. At least his evening was off to a good start. As he was hidden from curious eyes he allowed himself a small smile while he opened the book to the page where he had stopped the last time.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Hey there,**

**here comes the next chapter. Thank you for your feedback and for reading this far.**

**Greetings, EvannaLy**

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**CHAPTER 6**

When the sun rose above the horizon the next morning Hermione was already up and busy in her personal library. It was more of a huge bookshelf, actually, but it contained all the books she had collected over the years and took up two-thirds of the wall space of her living room. When she had moved in she had spent a whole weekend with constructing a sensible system for her books. While she had considered several options, she had finally chosen the traditional library-way and sorted the books in different categories like potions, transfiguration or muggle literature. All categories in itself were sorted in alphabetical order by the authors. Since then the shelf was her pride and joy and she spent most of her evenings nearby lying on her couch, reading her latest acquisition.

Hermione sat in front of it on the ground, the space that was normally occupied by her charms books was completely empty and the books strewn all around her instead. With one hand she flicked through book after book, with the other she wrote down anything she deemed useful in some way. In other words, Hermione did what she could do best – she was researching. She had already browsed through all history of charms related tombs and was currently working herself through theoretical works about the essence of charms.

She only stopped when she heard Tilius calling her from outside. She cast a quick charm to check the time and realized with growing horror that she nearly missed breakfast. It was just like during her schooldays when she needed Harry and Ron as her personal wakeup call from the book-induced heaven she tended to float off to. She grabbed the pergament with her notes an straightened her clothes before cleaning the mess on the floor with one swish of her wand. Then she left her rooms with fast steps, greeted Tilius in passing and went to the great hall, which was still fairly empty at the hour. But for Hermione's standards she was still late. Most of the rest of the teachers were already seated at their long table at the head of the hall. To her delight the place next to Filius was still vacant. She sent a smile to everyone and ignored the equally still vacant seat next to Minerva and Severus that was usually hers in favor of the one next to Filius. She sat down, helped herself to some coffee and toast before turning to her old charms professor.

"Filius, I have some questions I'd like to discuss with you, if that's okay with you." The old wizard seemed a little surprised – it has been some time since they had a longer conversation that surpassed the usual polite Smalltalk. "Of course, my dear. How can I help you?", "Well, I've been doing some private research recently about curses and the possibility of trapping them in inanimate objects. Do you think it would be possible, if a curse had formed roots in its victim to somehow extract it with a charm and trap it in another object?" Filius seemed to ponder the question for a moment. "That's difficult to answer. It would probably depend on whether the curse had the time to really become a part of its host. Then no charm in the world could extract it anymore and you would probably need to try a potion or a counter-curse in order to get rid of it. But if the curse would still be in the phase of forming roots? Maybe. I will need some time to look further into the matter." Hermione smiled at him gratefully. "That's absolutely no problem, Filius. Thank you very much, you already helped me a lot!" The small wizard blushed a little. "No problem, dear, no problem at all."

The rest of breakfast they chitchatted over this and that and before she knew it she was standing in her classroom, teaching her first class of the day. She loved teaching so time flew by and she even smiled two times at comments some students made and meant it.

At lunch she acted according to protocol again and sat on her usual spot. She greeted Severus like she did (almost) every day, got no reply which she ignored and hungrily ate some of the delicious treats the houseelves had once more made fore the inhabitants of the castle. She really had to visit them again some time, it's been a while.

When lunch time was nearly over a few owls that hadn't made it to breakfast came sailing through the air and to their owners. A small barn owl that she recognized as Dr. Burleighs came flying towards her. It landed on her now thankfully empty plate and she offered some bread crumbs. The owl ate them without missing a beat, then stretched out her left leg on which a small parcel was knotted to. Hermione carefully loosened the thread and took the parcel into her hands while the owl picked at an apple in the fruit bowl nearby before flying off again.

Hermione was curious as to what Dr. Burleigh had sent her as it was nothing she had been told to expect but she could already feel the curious stares of Minerva and Severus. She seldomly got any mail, letters or parcels, so it was a cause for curiosity to her colleagues, if she suddenly got sent parcels with no apparent sender. Well, she didn't exactly had many people left that would sent her mail, not that the others knew that. With that thought her mood changed and she gloomily decided to open the parcel later in her private chambers.

The rest of the day went by without any exciting disruptions and sooner than she thought dinner was over and she seated on her couch. The fire in the fireplace threw dancing shadows on her hand while she carefully opened the parcel. It contained a small box and a short note.

_"__Dear Ms. Granger, in addition to the potions you've already been prescripted I would like you to try out this salve. It's a new discovery and hasn't got any reports yet, but I think it could be helpful to your condition. It needs to be applied twice a day above the heart. In the best case it will help strengthening your magical core and energy system. Best wishes, Dr. Burleigh"_

Well, it wasn't a groundbreaking discovery, but it was better than nothing. She opened the lid of the box. The salve was of a limegreen colour. She hesitantly tried how it smelled and grimaced resignedly. Wonderful. It seemed like lizards legs were the main ingredient. With a sigh she got up and placed the box next to her arsenal of medicine in the bathroom. What was once more in this sea of salves, potions and draughts?

She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes and began to make herself ready for bed.

Hermione had been right, Severus had actually been curious about the parcel she received. It was less the parcel but more her whole behavior that seemed to have changed without reason from one day to another. At breakfast she had sat next to Filius and had discussed something with him throughout the whole meal. She hadn't done that in ages. Too bad that he sat too far away to understand what exactly they were talking about. At lunch everything seemed normal again though. She sat on her usual seat, greeted him, exchanged a few pleasantries with Minerva and hadn't spaced out once. Then the owl had come and delivered the parcel. Probably from some suitor. She seemed surprised at seeing the owl but also a little excited, which only lasted until she had the parcel in her hands. Then she seemed to undergo a sudden change of emotion and got that thoughtful expression she wore more often than not nowadays. He wondered what had caused that. And then he wondered why he cared at all. It seemed as if life as a teacher wasn't enough to keep his mind occupied and that he needed some other distractions to refrain from being bored. Why that has been Ms. Granger these last couple of days he avoided to ponder upon.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Hey there,**

**here comes a new, longer chapter than the last. Things really aren't going Hermiones way in this piece. But it all has to fall apart before it can be put back together.**

**Lots of love, EvannaLy**

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**CHAPTER 7**

The next week went by in a blur and before she knew it Filius had taken her aside one afternoon on the teachers room, saying that he had done some research about her theory. But Hermione could already tell from his face that he hadn't been successful.

"I'm very sorry, but I don't think that Charms is the right way to choose in this matter. At first, I thought there might be some correlation between such a curse you described and a Horcrux and I bet that has been a similarity that you also have thought of already, but that is not the case. Any charm you would cast would either be too weak or only able to lead to a momentous solution. Curses are not constructed to be kept in an object. Objects can be cursed, but then the object is the medium of the curse. It can't be its host though." Hermione sighed. "I feared that would be your answer, but I thought it couldn't hurt to let a charms master search for a loophole.", "That it certainly didn't. But my dear, have you asked Severus for advice yet? I would think he could be of greater help than I was. Problems such as this one are usually medical ones so a potion master would be a great start to start searching for a solution.", "No I haven't asked him so far, but thank you for your advice. I might really do that." It's not as if she had a choice now, did she? "Good thinking, my dear. I wish you luck with your further research.", "Thank you, Filius."

After her talk with Filius Hermione returned to the armchair next to a large window she had occupied before, from where one had a beautiful view over the whole premises of the school. She sighed inwardly as she sat down and looked out for a moment, seeing the raw beauty of the Scottish Highlands but being unable to appreciate it, before burying her head in her hands, feeling another headache coming. So she had really reached the point where she couldn't avoid Severus anymore. She had tried everything to avoid that, but everything was obviously not enough. And it hurt that she already knew how her little chat with her former potion teacher would go. She had no clue why he seemed to have left all old feuds behind but was still unable to have a normal, civilized conversation with her. She couldn't think of any behavior on her side that could have warranted such acting from his. But he had fended off any attempts of her to start anew, to get to know each other on another level than the student-teacher one he still held up. It was strange, because he was such a rational, intelligent man in almost every aspect of his life. His whole behavior towards her was a mystery.

The worst part was that she still thought that they could be highly compatible. He was one of the few people she could lead an intelligent discussion with, not that it happened very often. He also loved books almost as much as her and with the advance of a headstart of a few years he had been able to accumulate an astounding amount of general knowledge.

They also shared the similarity of always having been the strange kid turned nerd around. Being a clever child had proofed to be a curse for both of them. It had defined them and was reason for a strong will to fight for themselves, though Severus had admittedly taken more time in finding his path.

All in all Hermione had always seen the potential of their intellects colliding. But that would warrant meeting each other halfway on some neutral ground. Something, Severus was obviously very much against at the moment. And now she had to talk him into letting her use his sacred lab, which she would probably only achieve if she would nag him into surrender, which on the other hand would only confirm his negative opinion of her. Just perfect.

Hermione straightened up and observed how a bunch of students in blue capes hurried out of the warm rooms of the castle and to the general direction of the Quidditch pitch. So Ravenclaw was training today despite the dubious weather. She hoped they were quick-witted enough to avoid getting ill. Because then they would infect their dormmates, then their neighbors in class and then without doubt sooner or later her. Nothing she needed right now in her current condition. Apropos. She needed to take her medicals soon. While Dr. Burleighs always said 'a few drops with every meal' she felt better when she took care of it beforehand without the whole castle watching and wondering.

She grabbed her bag and accioed the vials out of it as it was way faster than searching for them by hand. The enlargement spell she had used on it before their horrendous year of camping was still intact and useful. She let her eyes roam over the room for a second to see if anybody was there to see what she was doing before admitting the proper amount of the potion into her waterglass on the coffee table besides her. She downed the first round without hesitation, then refilled the glass with water and adding exactly three drops of the next potion, and so on and so on. She started to feel like her grandma, who had to take more pills and vitamins at the end of her life than normal food. And the number of products grew every few weeks.

When she was finally finished she put the small boxes and vials back in her bag and grabbed her mug filled with now cold tea and started to nip on it, in order to extinguish the taste of foul apples that lingered in her mouth. Little by little it got less and when the sun began to settle all that was left was bergamot. Be grateful for the little things.

When her mug was empty she got up, took her stuff and went to Minerva who sat on sofa at the other end of the room since her last class had ended and was completely immersed in one of her silly romance books she secretly cherished. Hermione gently woke her from her trance and reminded her that it was nearly dinner time.

"Oh my, is it really this late already? Time flies when one enjoys herself, doesn't it?" Hermione smiled and waited for her to get up to walk to the great hall together. "There are worse ways to kill the time than read.", "I must agree. Now then, let's go, I just realize I'm starving." With that the headmaster and transfiguration mistress took off. Hermione shook her head and followed her. In a few years Minerva would be have perfected the illusion of absentmindedness that seemed to cling to all headmasters, excluding Severus.

The two witches chatted about their classes and Minervas book on their way and reached the great hall in no time. They were still fairly early and only a few seats filled so far. Of course Severus was already there. Hermione was suddenly not hungry anymore. But she didn't show anything and continued her trek to the head table, not listening to Minerva gushing about her novel anymore, only giving confirming nods once in a while – and one towards Severus in greeting.

It only took ten more minutes until the student body joined them for dinner and sooner than Hermione would've liked everyone began eating. The whole hall was filled by the sounds of clinking cutlery, excited voices and the smell of another feast. She really had to visit the houseelves soon.

She waited until dessert was served before she gathered up her courage and turned to Severus who had been eating silently until then, observing the students, probably inventing new methods to torture them in their next class. Or maybe just thinking about what book she should read next – who knows?

"Prof. Snape, may I have a word?" He didn't answer at first. He seemed a little surprised that she talked to him at all. But they were at dinner and all their colleagues next to them, so he couldn't just ignore her. She had bet on that and included it in her plan how to present the matter in the best way.

"You already do, so you might just as well continue." Well, at least it wasn't a completely bad start. "Thank you. I'm currently researching and working on a project of mine and have reached the point where I transit into the experimental phase and am in need of a potion lab, so I would like to ask if I could maybe use yours once in a while. It would be immensely helpful, and I promise I wouldn't cause chaos of any kind." She held her breath while she observed Severus' reaction. At first he didn't move at all, then he pulled his brows together imperceptibly and took a repellant stance. "My potion lab is not open for general use. Especially not the attached storeroom you so enthusiastically got acquainted with in your second year. I fear you will need to find somewhere else to conduct your little experiments. And I'm sure they're not as important as you seem to think they are.", he sneered and emptied his cup of water. "If you'll excuse me, some of us have some actual work to finish." With that he stood up and left through the backdoor on the side of the hall.

Hermione watched him go with a stony expression and growing sense of resignation. It wasn't as if she had expected a different outcome of this conversation but his dismissive attitude hurt nonetheless. Now she would start Plan B: set up a makeshift lab somewhere safe and start brewing as good as possible with her restricted options. She knew it could only ever be a temporarily solution but she had no other plan to work with, so she had to make it work somehow.

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	8. Chapter 8

**Hey there,**

**I don't know if there's even anyone left reading this story. It's certainly been a while - sorry for that. Nonetheless I'm excited to say that some of my inspiration came back, so hopefully we won't continue this habit of monthly breaks between updates.**

**That's all from me. Stay safe and healthy during this trying times.**

**Love, EvannaLy**

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**CHAPTER 8**

Severus left the Great Hall in confusion. He certainly hadn't expected this request from Miss Granger when she had turned towards him. At the beginning he had been stunned that she had even tried to talk to him during dinner. He had thought that he had made his point very clear the last time. But then she hadn't tried to talk with him for the sake of talking but had actually had the audacity to ask if she could use his lab. No one was allowed in his lab. He had spent years building the organizing system and took extensive care of all of his utensils. The thought alone of someone working there, causing havoc amongst this sacred place – he shuddered. No, for once it hadn't been the fact that _she_ had been the one asking, but a general form of principle. It was his lab and his lab alone. Even if that meant working late shifts and having short nights in order to manage the immense workload that had to be dealt with by a potion master.

What really caused his confusion though was the fact that she had to have known his answer from the start. So why would she ask him still? He couldn't come up with any reason what could have encouraged her to act like she did. One more point to add to the growing list of occasions when she had acted out of the norm.

He entered his rooms through a hidden corridor on the ground floor that had been installed by Albus in his days as a spy to make it easier for him to leave the castle at short notice without drawing attention to himself. It wasn't even the only one. He had a total number of four secret passages at his private disposal. And he took meticulous care that it stayed exactly this way. Never give your aces out of your hands.

Severus called Tipsy, his own houseelf and ordered a cup of tea before making himself comfortable in his favorite armchair near the fireplace. The dark emerald color of the fabric had paled from age and it was worn out on the edges, but it was his favorite nonetheless. It has been the first piece of furniture he had brought into his rooms as a newly appointed teacher when he had first begun to teach. It had belonged to his muggle grandmother on his paternal side, the only member of his family he had any positive memories of. He used to wonder if things would have gone differently if she hadn't died from lung cancer when he had just turned five. The armchair had been brought to the Snape residence then where it stood forgotten in the basement by everyone else but him until he took it years later.

Tipsy appeared out of thin air with a tray in her hands that contained a nice hot cup of tea and a plate with some biscuits. He thanked her which she answered with bowing frantically with trembling ears and sent her off for the evening. He grabbed the cup, ignoring the radiating heat and stared into the fire.

What could it be that Miss Granger was working on? Even if she tended to be an overachiever and getting lost in useless information – everyone who denied that she really was rather intelligent was an idiot. Not that he would ever admit that out loud. She might not be suitable for a teaching position, but she definitely had a clever head on her shoulders. While he had loathed to grade her essays in her schooldays as they were always overly long and meant longer evenings for him they were always very solid work and even contained some interesting approaches to common potion problems every once in a while. So if she said she worked on some private projects they were probably at least a little interesting even if he had shoved the direct opposite answer in her face. Well, he had to keep his distance, after all.

He took a sip of his tea and got lost in the fire again. Maybe he could consider at least asking her to share what she was working on if she got the courage and persistence to ask again. She would, if it really was important, if the past had taught him anything at all.

With that he ended that train of thoughts and accioed his notebook instead, one of the few muggle inventions he really cherished. This particular one was filled halfway with his thoughts how one might be able to treat certain spell damage, caused by curses of the darker end of the spectrum. St. Mungos had written to him a few weeks ago with the request for him to look into the matter if possible. At first he had declined, his workload was already rather huge to begin with, but then he had realized it proved to be a matter of genuine interest to him. And it had been so long since he had been able to do some research for his own pleasure. So he had contacted the appointed doctor and told him that he would try to offer a new angle on the matter. So far his research hadn't been as fruitful as he had thought it would be, as there had never been the attempt to treat such cases before. For once it had been a long time since there had been such an abundance of victims, excluding the aftermath of the first war, then usually it had been cases whereas the damage was diagnosed too late for anyone to find a cure in time. But Severus was a man who loved a good challenge, so he had jumped headfirst into the matter. The only thing he was sure about so far was that there had to be powdered bezoar included as an ingredient. While spell residue was in no way comparable to poison in its structure and methods the symptoms it caused often disguised themselves as such. So a bezoar was the perfect choice to assure a stabilization of the magical core, especially as it was of neutral character and unlikely to interact with other ingredients in any way. But everything else proofed to be a problem, as every curse was different, every single one had its own special magical signature and could vary greatly in its intensity. So far he had been unable to generate a working base that could be used as a starting point and then be varied depending on what curse needed to be treated.

Severus opened the notebook on the page where he had left off and started to calculate the probable reactions if one might add three and three-quarters of fire seeds, known for its usage in the antidote to uncommon poisons. Not all possible healing qualities of them were discovered yet, so he thought it was worth a try.

He worked late into the evening and only stopped, when Tipsy appeared despite his earlier dismission of her and reminded him that he had detentions to oversee tomorrow morning, as it would be Saturday and therefore detention day. He grumbly acquiesced and got ready for bed. If the little brats would know what sacrifices he made for them…


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

The next morning began as another in a long line of similar mornings, until her routine was broken by a sudden flash of dizziness that caused her stomach to turn and forced her to sit down on the ground in her living room before she might fall and hurt herself in the progress. Black dots danced before her eyes and her ears were tortured by a shrill screeching sound she was sure she imagined. She fought to remain conscious bur realized she had lost that fight when she regained her senses a few minutes later. Luckily her head had managed to fall on the soft carpet in front of her couch instead on the sharp edge of the coffee table.

Hermione closed her eyes in annoyance and remained lying there for a few moments. No need to rush things and faint again. Oh, how she hated how weak she had become! At least it was Saturday and therefore no timetable to follow. No one would notice or be curious as to why she attended breakfast later than normal. Even the hardworking Arithmantic teacher deserved a goodnights sleep once in a while. Maybe she should just skip breakfast altogether and just ask some of the houseelves to bring her something to her rooms. Or she could finally visit the elves in the kitchen. Yes, that was a good idea, she would do that. But only after recovering some more.

When she was positive that she wouldn't faint again in the near future she got up slowly and went into her bathroom to drink some water. She avoided looking into the mirror above the sink. No need to make her morning even more miserable. When she felt she had hydrate herself enough to prevent any accidents on that front she left her bathroom, put her wand in the invisible holster on her left arm – a left-over habit from the war – and went through her portrait-hole. Tilius tried to engage her in a conversation like always, but she managed to politely excuse herself and finally started her trek towards the kitchen.

While she strode through the corridors past the first students who showed different states of awakeness, past portraits, statues and the countless windows with the carved windowsills she had always loved she thought about her previous trips to the kitchen and her history with the houseelves. She really came a long way since fourth year. Though she couldn't shake the sad memories of the discussions with Fred and George about that exact matter. Even her knowledge of the whereabouts of the kitchen that allowed her to visit them today were partly due to their credit. She really missed Fred. The last time she had been at the rebuilt burrow, before her final conversation with Ron, or fight or whatever you may call it, she had stumbled across George who sat in the garden at their tiny pond and had stared with empty eyes into nothingness. She had joined him for a few minutes, not saying a word, just pressing his hand for a moment before she got up and walked towards the end of her relationship with Ron. Even though so much else was going on at that time, she remembered feeling incredibly sad about the obvious blank spot Fred left in the entity that has always been 'Fred and George'. To see one twin alone had always been an extremely rare occasion. Her heart had ached for George and how he struggled to find his purpose in life on his own, how he physically just couldn't go back to their shop, their dream that became reality even when no one thought that possible – beside Harry, because it just hurt too damn much to face the reality that he alone would be responsible from now on. That there would be just him, not them.

Hermione tried to get rid of the melancholy and concentrated on where she was heading. For now she hadn't met anyone from her colleagues who would have tried to convince her to join them for breakfast in the Great Hall, so she was thankful for that. She was nearly at her destiny anyway. Her silent musings had taken her longer than she thought. In no time she stood in front of the painting that showed the fruit bowl. She tickled the pear like she had to and the secret entrance opened for her.

As soon as she entered, she was surrounded by a crowd of enthusiastic elves who interrupted everything they were doing and focused solely on her, their ears shaking in excitement, asking how they could be of aid. All at the same time of course.

"It's been so long since the Miss visited-", "Has Dupy not cleaned the room of the Miss to her liking?", "Could Polly interest the Professor in some good and healthy breakfast?"

Hermione had to laugh at the chaos erupting around her and couldn't help but shake her head mentally at her younger self, that had been too invested in her campaign for the rights of houseelves to see which rights were actually of interest to them and therefore in their interest. They had also forgiven her for all the knitted clothes she had left in her old common room for them to find. She had apologized for that as soon as she had the chance to after starting to work at Hogwarts, which had actually ended in some really interesting conversations with the elves about their likes and dislikes, their views on the elf-wizard relationship and their magical abilities. She had become a monthly guest since then.

"I thank you all for your kindness. I just came down here for a quiet breakfast, so I would like to take you up on your offer, Polly." She had also tried to learn as many of their names as possible. It helped, that they included them regularly in their sentences, more often than not. The elf in question nodded happily and jumped back to the stove where she had previously worked on some delicious scrambled eggs, before Hermione had disturbed their routine. Hermione herself was now led towards a small table near one of the walls which had a comfortable bench instead of chairs on both sides. As soon as she sat down another elf came and put a cup of hot tea in front of her. The delicious smell of bergamot reached her nose and she sighed contently. All houseelfs had returned to their former tasks so she could watch without haste as they fell back into their routine which would grant all castle inhabitants an amazing breakfast.

While she sat there and waited for her own breakfast she noticed one elf who stood a bit separated and seemed to work on a single breakfast, much like Polly did for her right now. It made her curious. It could only mean, that another teacher had chosen to eat on his own this morning. So when Polly brought her a tray filled to the brim with everything one could wish for in a classical English breakfast she couldn't help but ask who the other single breakfast was for.

"It's for Master Snape of course. Tipsy is his personal elf after all, Miss.", "His personal elf? I thought you all were contracted to the school, not individuals?" Polly nodded frantically. "That is correct, Miss, but Tipsy has been Master Snapes elf before Tipsy came to Hogwarts. He belongs to the Prince family, but choose to follow his master here to the school. And because it's weekend Tipsy is making him breakfast to eat at his quarters just like he prefers to.", "Oh… thank you Polly. For that information and for the food of course. It looks delicious!" Polly gave her a dazingly smile. "Glad to be of help, Miss. If there is anything else, Polly can do, Miss just has to call. Now Polly has to help the others." With that the bouncy elf took of, leaving Hermione lost in thoughts.

So Severus liked to seclude himself during mealtimes on weekends. Not that it surprised her, really. If she thought about it, she hadn't seen him that often on Saturday or Sunday mornings at the breakfast table. She had just assumed he liked to sleep in every once in a while.

Before she could delve any deeper into these thoughts the smell of the food in front of her became to alluring to resist and she started to eat with an appetite she hadn't realized she had, the busy noises of the elves creating a comforting atmosphere. Her day had certainly become much better after its abysmal start.

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**Hey :)**

**Like promised, this chapter didn't take months for me to upload. It is kind of a fill-in chapter, though, sry for that. The next one will be important as a built-up for Severus and Hermione finally being forced to interact. Stay tuned^^**

**Lots of love, EvannaLy**


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